1. Steph saying Rich choked on Korean BBQ in the bath, and began seizing. He was 13mo.
2. Dad saying someone hid his car keys, delaying their departure for the emergency room.
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Did Steph accuse me of hiding the keys? A 1yo nearly drowns, so she frames a 9yo for infanticide? Is perfectionism that severe that a seizure needs guilt and blame? I know Steph was doubted, but so was I. Who would I be if I had known Steph was lying about being my mom for a paycheck. Who would I be if I weren't responsible for ruining their lives of a dozen adults upon my conception? What if dad married Suzanne.
Stephanie said my childhood seizures were for attention. Then she caused a 1yo to have 3 within 3 days. Are Rich and I that worthless? Why, bc of who are parents are?
Please don't make me move to Gwynmont. I will die. I will die. Check the call log. Please. I will die. After 6 years of diabetes management, and mold and parasite cleanses, there has finally been a break in the brain fog. Like literally last week was the first two consecutive days without a nap, since I can remember. Only last year, I finally stopped sweating buckets of putrid sweat.
Check the call logs, please. I don't need anyone punished. I just want to live. That's it. I want to live without always prepared for her to break down my door. I've tried, I can't stop, each time she promises then denies, I feel in my bones she will break down my door and beat me awake with a Polly Pocket shoe. I've had a go-bag since 1st grade. I developed freeze at 3yo. My survival skills peaked at 3yo. Not my left brain, my librarians and teachers were Cinderella too. But my lizard brain, peaked at 3yo, freeze is the best I can do, please squash me with your fancy shoe. I don't need more opportunity to disassociate, I want to live as me.
I no longer expect or allow any man or woman to be my person. I believe love is real, intellectually. My body says love is a booby trap. 100% of the men who had sex with my body lied until I said no more then the truth changed and I was called crazy. It's like me and the dentist. I know I need the skills of dentist, I know I need a person but there was too much pain while my brain still formed. How Steph sat in the room and held me down as I cried and tried to stay quiet, and I still couldn't chew. My body won't let me. I have to eat myself into oblivion after each appointment to come back to Earth.
The infected titanium continues to eat away. It won't be much longer. Please, check the call logs. I need to go far far away, deep enough, that the animals of the forrest let me know ahead for a day a car is approaching.
